


Sleepless Nights

by ironxprince



Series: The Story of Sophia Rogers-Stark [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Drunken Shenanigans, Drunkenness, Family Dynamics, Gen, Harley Keener & Peter Parker are Siblings, Original Character(s), Parent Steve Rogers, Parent Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Morgan Stark are Siblings (Marvel Cinematic Universe)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:34:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25940707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ironxprince/pseuds/ironxprince
Summary: Sophia comes home drunk. Harley and Peter have to sneak her in.
Relationships: Harley Keener & Peter Parker & Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe), Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Series: The Story of Sophia Rogers-Stark [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1882657
Comments: 8
Kudos: 60





	Sleepless Nights

“ _ You’re coming down this Saturday, right? _ ”

Harley runs a hand through his hair as he leans back on the porch swing, stars sparkling above him and crickets chirping in the distance. “Wouldn’t miss it. I can’t wait to see you, love.”

Brian chuckles from the other end of the line. “ _ Can’t believe I met you all the way back in Grade 11 calculus. Who would’ve thought I’d have a reason to look forward to math class? _ ” Even though Brian can’t see him, Harley still tries to hide his grin. It doesn’t work. “ _ Why did you wait this long to ask me out, anyway? _ ”

Because I didn’t want you to be an experiment to trick my parents, Harley thinks. Because, for the first time, I was actually nervous about speaking to a boy, and I didn’t want to mess up my chance. I needed to wait until their rule was dropped so I didn’t feel ashamed of being with you.

“Because you were an idiot in high school,” Harley lies, and Brian snorts. It makes him grin. “I wanted to see if post-secondary would toughen you up.”

“ _ Yeah, well, you weren’t exactly the sharpest knife in the drawer, either. _ ”

“You loved me.”

“ _ Yeah, _ ” Brian confesses softly. “ _ I did. _ ”

Harley squeezes his eyes shut as he grins so wide, he feels his cheeks may shatter. When he opens them again, he spots a person standing at the end of the walkway, trekking their way up toward the house. Harley laughs softly at their staggering attempts to make it to the doorway. “Hey, Bri, I’ve gotta go.”

“ _ Call me later. _ ”

“For sure.”

Harley hangs up and pockets his phone, reclining back on the swing as he watches Sophia stumble her way up to the house, hair in a tangled mess above her head, short, red dress crumpled, and heels held in her hand. She stops a couple of steps from the porch, apparently not having seen Harley yet, and bends down, looking at something just off the path.

“Whaddya have there?” Harley calls, amused.

Sophia grins at him, throwing her hands up. “Harley!” she yells, and Harley jumps, her voice echoing through the night air.

“Yeah, hey,” Harley answers, grinning.

“There’s a- a flower over here,” Sophia mutters, giggling as she points down at something Harley can’t see. “It’s so pretty!”

Sophia leans closer, looking at the flower, and laughs as she loses her balance, falling into the grass.

“Oh, my gosh,” Harley mutters as Sophia pushes herself up to her knees, then, with difficulty, to her feet. “You’re drunk.”

Sophia crosses her ankles and puts her hands on her hips as she pinches her lips together. “No.” Harley raises a brow, and Sophia’s lips slide into a grin as she tilts to the side. “Okay, yeah.”

“Soph!” Harley criticizes with a chuckle. “The Dads  _ finally  _ extend your curfew, let you go to a party….”

“Oh, Harls, the  _ party! _ ” Sophia continues, beginning to spin in a circle on the walkway. Harley has the urge to reach forward and catch her before she inevitably falls, but with her arms swaying the way they are, he doesn’t want to risk getting near. “There was music and it was so loud, ugh, I have the  _ biggest  _ headache right now, but Lucy was there, and she introduced me to this… oh.” She stops spinning, and her arms fall to her sides. Harley lurches forward, eyes widening slightly.

“What? Do you feel sick? Are you gonna-”

“Oh, Lucy introduced me to this guy, and he was, like- he was so  _ cute!  _ And he liked my hair, and he complicated it-”

Harley raises a brow. “Complimented?”

Sophia waves him off. “Yeah, that. Anyway…” She grins, and her voice quiets. “It was so great.”

Harley’s shoulders sag. “Oh, Soph, you didn’t.”

“Ugh. No.” She flails her arms at him, like she wants to hit him, but doesn’t exactly know how to get there. “We just… kissed a bit.”

“A bit?” Sophia’s face flushes, and her smile grows wide, and that’s all the answer Harley needs. Letting out a long breath, he looks behind him to the house. “Alright, we’ve got to get you inside without the Dads knowing.”

“And what if they know?” Sophia throws her hands up in the air, yelling, “I! Am! Drun-”

Harley lunges forward, grabbing his sister by the shoulders. “Hey,” she whispers at his sudden proximity.

“Hi,” he answers, smiling. Play along and she’ll go quietly, he guesses. “Alright, Soph, you can’t be shouting now, okay?”

“Why not?” she grins, like they’re playing a game.

“Because the Dads can’t know that you’re drunk.”

“Why not?” she repeats.

“Because then they’ll never let you go out again.”

“And why do you care?”

Harley shrugs, stepping back. “You wanna tell them? Fine, go right ahead.” Sophia’s shoulders drop, and she looks nervously over Harley’s shoulder, up to the house. “That’s what I thought. If we’re going to pull this off, we’ll need to work quietly, and we’ll need reinforcements.”

“Morgan?” Sophia says, eyes wide.

Harley shakes his head, frowning. “What? No, she’s four.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,  _ oh _ . We need Peter.”

Sophia rolls her eyes, turning away. “Ugh, not the narc.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. You were right. Let’s grab the girl who doesn’t know how to count to 100 instead.”

“I hate you.”

“Yeah, tell it to me in the morning when you’re recovering from a hangover, but your parents are none the wiser. Geez, Soph, you’re sixteen!” Harley mutters as he dials Peter’s number and holds the phone up to his ear.

“Practically an adult.”

“No, you’re not- hey, Peter. Where are you right now?”

Peter yawns from the other end of the line. “ _ It’s midnight. I’m in bed, idiot. _ ”

“Your sister’s drunk.”

Peter sighs, and Sophia giggles. “ _ She’s with you? _ ”

“Yeah. We’re outside. We need your help sneaking her in.”

Peter grumbles from the other end of the line. Covers shift and doors open and close. “ _ On my way. _ ”

“Thanks.” Harley pockets his phone and turns to Sophia, shaking his head. Sophia glares back at him, and Harley can’t keep in his laugh at her pout. “I can’t believe you.”

“So, what, you can get a motorcycle, and I can’t get drunk?”

Harley’s eyes widen and he hurries to contain Sophia’s flailing arms. “A little quieter, there, Soph!” he whispers harshly, and Sophia giggles.

“You really gotta see this f-flower, though. It was really… really pretty….” She begins to scan the bushes when Harley hears footsteps behind him. He turns, seeing Peter cross the lawn as he throws his hands up.

“What?” Peter calls, shaking his head. “I’ve got a test tomorrow, man, I can’t be losing sleep- where is she, anyway?”

“I can’t find my flower….” Sophia mutters from the bushes, and Harley rolls his eyes.

“There.”

Sophia topples forward, laughing, and Peter rushes forward as Harley rubs a hand over his eyes. “I can’t believe this,” he mutters under his breath - then, louder, “Where are the Dads?”

Peter surfaces from the bushes, Sophia’s arm around his shoulders. “Pops is in bed, I think. Dad’s working on something at the dinner table.”

Harley claps his hands, and Sophia flinches. “Easy,” he says. “We should be able to get her upstairs without them knowing.”

“Unless Dad comes to investigate.”

“That’s your job.”

Peter looks to his sister clinging to his arm. “I think I’m better equipped to carry her upstairs.”

“Eh, fair. I’ll distract him, then.”

“Hey.” Sophia lifts her arm. “You guys-re acting like I’m not even here,” she slurs.

Harley lifts a brow. “Would you like to be a part of this conversation?” Sophia opens her mouth before pinching her lips shut and shaking her head. “Yeah. Peter, get her upstairs as quietly as possible. I’ll be on Dad duty.”

Harley turns and sets out toward the house when Peter calls him back. “Wait, what are you going to do?”

Harley throws a grin over his shoulder. “Be myself.”

⬫⬨◊⬨⬫

Getting into the house is easy. The front door is practically silent upon entry, and Harley can see Tony slouching at the kitchen table anyway, already half-asleep. Now comes the more troublesome part: getting Sophia in and upstairs. She’s a happy drunk, a  _ loud _ drunk, meaning Harley will get to do what he’s been wanting to since he got a younger brother and needed to become a role model.

It’s time for him to be himself.

Tony jolts up as Harley strolls into the kitchen and begins rummaging through the fridge. He groans, raising his arms above his head and yawning loudly. Harley pays him no mind as he finds his desired product from the fridge.

“What are you doing up?” Tony asks, words slurred. Harley smirks as he reaches to the back of the second shelf.

“Just doing me.”

“That doesn’t reassure me.”

Harley shrugs, and Tony pushes himself up from the table, nearing the fridge to investigate. Harley lifts his left hand, shaking the bottle of Coca-Cola with a smile as he hides what’s in his right. Tony raises a brow. “Before bed?”

“I’m me. You and I both know I won’t be sleeping anyway.”

Tony rubs a hand over his eyes. “Teenagers. Fine, but don’t come complaining to me when you’re bouncing off the walls at 3am.”

“Why would I ever come to you? I’m not five.” Tony yawns again and Harley takes the opportunity to slide a nearby product off the counter and tuck it into his sweatshirt pocket. Tony waves Harley off as he settles at the table once more, burying his head in his hands, and Harley slides from the room.

He moves to the dining room. It’s the room furthest from the stairs, his safest bet if they’re going to get Sophia upstairs without their Dads figuring out - and also, it’ll cause the most destruction. Harley would be lying if he said this idea doesn’t get him excited.

Harley sets his materials out in the middle of the table and sends Peter a quick picture.

**_Harley:_ ** _ I’ll get Pops out of the way too. 2 for 1 ;) _

**_Peter is typing…_ **

**_Peter:_ ** _ AWFUL idea _

**_Harley:_ ** _ I’m doing it whether you take the opportunity or not. Just make sure you wait until Pops is clear of the stairs _

**_Peter:_ ** _ do not do that _

**_Harley is typing…_ **

**_Harley:_ ** _ too late :) _

⬫⬨◊⬨⬫

Peter shakes his head, trying to hide his smirk as he pockets his phone. He looks down to where Sophia is settled on the edge of the pathway, her knees tucked up to her chest as she rocks back and forth, swaying to a song only she can hear.

Peter kneels down beside her, offering his hand. “Are you ready to head in?”

“Dad can’t see me, stupid,” Sophia says as Peter grabs her arm and begins to pull her up.

“Wow, you’re right,” he mutters. “If only we discussed having a distraction ready so we could sneak you inside.”

“Yeah. You guys-re idiots.”

“Mhm.” Peter tugs Sophia to the front of the house, only half-listening. He peers in through the front window. He sees nothing yet - nothing means Harley’s plan hasn’t been enacted, but it also means Tony’s not in sight. Peter could try to take Sophia upstairs now and he’d most likely succeed, but he’s curious to see what Harley’s plan is.

As if on cue, Harley leans out of the dining room, into view of the front window. He holds up three fingers, then drops them to two.  _ A countdown. _

His left hand holds up one finger. His right reaches for something behind him. With Sophia’s hand clutched in his own, Peter waits.

The first thing he hears is Harley’s giggle, evolving quickly into a loud, rambunctious laugh. Coca-Cola shoots up from somewhere behind Harley, and for a moment all Peter can do is stare open-mouthed as it arcs up into the ceiling and drizzles back down to the floor to where a Mentos wrapper lies, discarded. Sophia laughs and Peter smiles, reaching a hand for the doorknob, when Harley turns and holds up a finger.  _ Wait. _

Peter hears shouting, a, “What the hell?”

And then Dad makes an appearance.

Tony rounds the corner, eyes wide and face red as he takes in the sight. “Harley, you little-” He tries to take a step into the dining room, but he falls backward, as if hit by a forcefield. Harley doubles over laughing, and Peter notices a box of plastic wrap sitting on the table behind him. Peter bursts out laughing before slamming a hand over his mouth. They’re not in the clear yet; they still need to get passed Pops.

Peter ducks down behind the windowsill, pulling Sophia behind him as Steve comes running down the stairs, footsteps heavy and gait off-kilter as his hands scramble for purchase on the railing and wall on either side of him. He just woke up, then - and if he walks through that doorway….

Steve goes down, falling back beside a livid Tony. As Harley laughs his ass off, Peter ducks down lower behind the sill. Oh, their parents are going to be  _ so  _ upset. If they find out Peter was involved in this….

No, there’s no time to think like that. Harley’s sacrificing- probably his phone, his free time this spring break, and is risking being grounded for the sole purpose of getting Sophia upstairs safely. It’s Peter’s turn to step up.

Peter hears yelling even before he pulls the front door open - Tony screaming and Steve mumbling possible explanations as he tries to figure out if he’s still dreaming. Harley laughs behind it all as Peter pulls Sophia behind him, into the entryway. He places a finger over his lips, and Sophia nods solemnly, her expression breaking the louder her parents get. Peter has to get her upstairs  _ fast  _ before she cracks _. _ At least the Dads are screaming too loud to hear the occasional giggle Sophia lets out.

Peter closes the door behind him and shoves Sophia across the entryway. They pass the doorway to the dining room and Peter holds his breath. Tony and Steve’s backs are to the doorway as they scream at Harley. Peter finds his brother’s eyes, trying to simultaneously convey  _ thank you  _ and  _ be careful _ \- and then, Harley breaks character. He meets Peter’s eye, and scoffs.

The screaming stops.

“What’s so funny?” Tony demands, turning to follow Harley’s line of sight.

Everything happens in slow motion.

Harley’s eyes widen. Steve’s head begins to swivel. Peter reaches behind him for Sophia and shoves her forward, onto the stairs. Her foot catches on the bottom step. As she falls forward, Peter throws himself onto the ground. A  _ bang _ echoes through the house as Peter tumbles to his knees, but it didn’t come from him.

Tony’s eyes widen when he sees Peter on the floor. “What happened now?” he exclaims, reaching forward to help Peter,  _ stepping  _ forward. If he leaves the room he’ll see Sophia just on the other side of the doorway-

He forgot about the plastic wrap.

Tony hits it square on, and he goes down.

Harley bursts out laughing as Steve reaches a hand for his husband. Peter shoves himself to his feet, grabbing a giggling Sophia’s hand and racing up the stairs with her. She laughs as she tumbles over the steps, but they just have to reach the landing, and then-

“Peter Benjamin Parker!” Pops bellows, not having left the dining room, and Peter meets his sister’s eyes in defeat. He tilts his head toward her bedroom.  _ Go. _

Sophia shakes her head, grabbing his hand tighter.  _ Not without you. _

“We came this far,” Peter whispers. “Don’t be a hero.”

Steve’s voice is closer when he screams, “You get down here right now-” He’s leaving the dining room. He’ll spot Sophia.

“Go,” Peter mouths, pushing her forward. Steve’s footsteps get closer. Sophia shoots a worried look over Peter’s head before turning and disappearing up the stairs. Peter watches her go with a release of breath and a smile.  _ Mission accomplished. _

Steve ducks under the plastic wrap, rounding the corner and fixing Peter with a stare so cold, Peter’s sure it could freeze hell over.  “Get down here,” he demands. “Now.”

Peter lets out a slow breath as he treks down the stairs. He feels Sophia’s eyes on him from the shadows of her room. Well, they’ve succeeded in their mission. Sophia’s home free.

At least Peter and Harley will get to serve their sentence together.

⬫⬨◊⬨⬫

Steve paces in front of the dripping wet dining room table, the occasional drop falling from the ceiling where a brown stain is setting in. Every time Harley notices it from the corner of his eye, he giggles.  _ Man _ , that was fun.

Tony leans against the doorway to the dining room, eyeing his sons wearily. He toys with a crumpled ball of plastic wrap between his fingers as he shakes his head.

To Harley, this whole thing is hilarious. Making Steve lose his cool composure? Check. Making Tony regret ever adopting a single child?  _ Double  _ check.

Sitting at the table beside him, though, Peter looks terrified.

His face is pale and his knee won’t stop bouncing. Harley nudges Peter with his shoulder, and Peter offers him a small smile.

“Don’t look at each other,” Steve mutters, rubbing at his forehead. “Don’t smile. You think this is funny?”

Harley shrugs. “Well, kinda-”

Steve points a finger. “Not a word out of you.” Harley shrugs, falling back against the chair, and Steve groans as he squeezes his eyes shut and massages his temples. “Why?”

“Science,” Harley answers easily. “Trial and error. Just wanted to be like you, Dad.” The corner of Tony’s mouth quirks up, but he otherwise remains silent. Wow. For Tony regarding Harley, that’s practically a rage-fueled freak-out. He can’t even spare a smile? He must be pissed.

“Harley….” Steve shakes his head, squeezing his eyes shut. “I’m not surprised.”  _ I’m just disappointed _ , Harley mouths to Peter. Peter keeps his head down as Steve finishes, “I’m just disappointed.” Peter snorts. “And you!” Steve says in response, and Peter sits up straighter. “I expected this from Harley, but you?”

“Whoa, wait, what makes you think Peter had anything to do with this?” Harley interrupts, placing his hand flat on the table in front of Peter, forming a type of shield.

“He appeared randomly and tried to leave just as quickly. An innocent person doesn’t run.”

“It looked to me like he fell down the stairs,” Harley says, crossing his arms, “and once he saw what was happening, he didn’t want any part in it.”

Steve’s eyes shift between his sons while Tony holds Peter’s gaze steady, like he can see right through them. Harley can convince Steve well enough, but as Peter is Tony’s biological child, Harley wonders if he’ll be able to fool Tony as easily.

“It’s the truth,” Harley continues, a little more hastily now that the plan is in jeopardy of being blown wide open. “Look, Peter’s a goody-two-shoes and can’t keep a secret for the life of him. Do you really think I would involve him in a prank like this?”

Harley feels Peter’s wide-eyed gaze on him, but he refuses to turn and look.

Steve lets out a slow breath. “We’ll deal with this in the morning,” he says finally, turning and strolling from the room. “Clean this up,” he calls before Harley hears his footsteps stomping up the stairs and the door to the master bedroom slamming shut. Peter flinches at the noise, but they're not off the hook just yet.

Tony steps into the room, arms swinging to clasp behind his back. He takes slow steps to stand across the table from his sons, eyes down as he examines the patterns on the top of the wood. “Where’s your sister?” he asks quietly. Peter’s head turns to Harley. Harley peers at him from the corner of his eye.  _ Don’t be so damn obvious, idiot. _

“How would we know?” Harley says, shrugging his shoulders. “Probably upstairs crying over her boyfriend.”

“That’s unfair, and you know it,” Tony says, and Harley gives a small nod. “That’s right, you  _ do  _ know it. You know it’s unfair, and that’s why you’d never say it, unless you were hiding something.”

Harley lifts his head, affronted. “I’m  _ not. _ ”

“Yeah? Because I just heard the tap running upstairs, and unless Morgan has grown tall enough to reach the sink in the couple of hours she’s left my sight, that means your sister’s home.”

“So?”

“ _ So _ , you’re smarter than this. You’re playing dumb. This wasn’t an experiment, it was a distraction.” Tony lifts his gaze, looking first to Peter, then shifting his gaze to Harley’s and holding it a moment longer than necessary. “Clean this up, then go to bed. We’ll talk in the morning.”

Tony leaves the room, and Peter immediately falls back in his chair, his strings cut. Harley remains sitting upright, staring after the empty doorway.

“Dad knows,” Peter says. “He’ll tell Pops and we won’t be in trouble, right? We were just helping our family, and they’ll be happy about that.”

“Nah, Pops likes us supporting our family, but he doesn’t like us hiding broken rules. Dad is the one with the  _ snitches get stitches  _ policy. Dad won’t tell Pops, because then Soph would get in trouble.”

“So we’re taking the fall for her,” Peter sighs. Harley simply nods.

“But it’s what we signed up for, right?”

Peter glares at Harley from the corner of his eye before rolling his eyes and nodding reluctantly. “Yeah,” he gives in.

Harley pushes himself up from the table. “I’m going to get your sister some water and Advil for the morning.”

“ _ Our  _ sister,” Peter mutters under his breath. “Her first time drinking, huh?”

“You jealous?” Harley taunts as he fills up a glass at the sink, and Peter shoves his shoulder as he’s passed the cup.

“I’ve drank before.”

“What, cocktails?” Harley grabs the bottle of Advil and pours two into his palm before leading Peter up the stairs. Peter doesn’t respond, and Harley grins as he tiptoes across the hall and pushes Sophia’s door open. He laughs at the sight.

Sophia is collapsed on her bed, limbs sprawled out. Harley sets the Advil down on her dresser before crossing over to her bathroom and wetting a facecloth. He moves back to her bedside, simultaneously pointing Peter toward the closet. Peter must get the message because he trudges over and begins rummaging through piles of clothes.

“Soph?” Harley whispers, and she groans in response. “Yeah, hello to you, too. You’re welcome for saving your ass, by the way.” Sophia mumbles a  _ thank you  _ that Harley probably wouldn’t have been able to discern if they hadn’t grown up together. “I’m going to take off your makeup, alright?” No response. Harley sighs and gets to work, gently rubbing the cloth around her face. All it seems to do is smear her mascara, and Harley wonders how women do this all the time.

Peter reenters the room and scoffs, almost dropping the pile of pajamas he holds. “Shut up,” Harley groans, scrubbing harder. Sophia reaches up a flailing arm, trying to slap Harley’s hand away. “I’m trying to help you, stupid.”

“Bad word,” Sophia mutters into her pillow.

“Oh, I can do worse.”

“Stop it,” Peter interrupts, kneeling down beside Harley and taking the cloth from his hand. “Here, you don’t rub. That’ll inflame the skin. You have to go in circles.” Peter demonstrates the technique, and Harley shakes his head as he retrieves the glass of water. Peter stands and moves out of his way.

“Drink this,” Harley tells Sophia, sliding the glass into her grasping hands and helping to guide it to her lips. Only a couple of drops fall down her chin; Harley counts that as a win as he takes back the glass. “Alright, we’ve got to get you into some pajamas, alright?”

“Don’t wanna,” Sophia mutters as she nestles further into her covers.

Peter lifts the clothes and gently pushes them into her hands. “It’ll be more comfortable, Soph, I promise.”

Sophia takes the clothes and Peter and Harley prepare to turn away as she changes, but Sophia just takes them and slides them on top of her dress. Harley snorts and Peter lifts a hand to cover his mouth as her shirt gets caught over her head and her pantlegs get tangled in the dress. It’s probably the opposite of comfortable, but Sophia looks content as she settles back in her bed, and Harley shrugs.

He gives Peter a quick pat on the back before departing, and Peter smiles after his brother.

Tomorrow, they’d be grounded, punished, whatever, but for tonight, Sophia’s upstairs, asleep, and their parents are none the wiser.

Mission accomplished.

⬫⬨◊⬨⬫

Tony slides into bed next to Steve. His husband’s breathing is ragged and irregular and too angry for him to be asleep.

Tony lays flat on his back, staring up at the ceiling as Steve lays on his side, his back to Tony.

“Your daughter’s drunk.”

“I know,” Steve huffs.

“How?”

“Heard her giggles from the open window.”

Tony props himself up on his elbows and peers over Steve to their bedroom window which, indeed, lays open. He huffs out a laugh. “Nice.”

“How do you know?”

“You know Peter to get involved with these kinds of shenanigans?”

Steve shrugs. “I guess not.”

“Nope. And if he were to be involved in anything, well, Harley might as well involve his sister, too. She wasn’t there, but it had to involve her somehow, so-”

“Distraction. They snuck her upstairs.”

“She’s asleep in her bed right now.”

Steve rolls onto his back, shoulder to shoulder with Tony as they stare up at the ceiling. “Those damn kids.”

Tony tucks himself against Steve’s side. “They’re looking out for each other.”

“They’re letting each other get away with things they shouldn’t be doing.”

Tony shrugs. “Maybe. But the way I see it, Sophia made a mistake. Her brothers covered for her. They fully believe they’re going to be punished when tomorrow comes, and still, they won’t give her up.”

“Well, they  _ do  _ deserve to be punished for messing up our dining room, no matter what the reason.”

Tony chuckles. “Yeah, fair. But their sister also deserves to be punished. Still, they won’t throw her under the bus.”

Steve yawns, lifting his arm to wrap around Tony’s shoulders and pull his husband closer to him. “I guess that’s a good thing.”

“Yeah,” Tony sighs. “It is.”

Steve remains quiet for a moment. “So, what should we have them do?”

“Well, first of all, I don’t think they cleaned the dining room.”

“I didn’t hear a single cupboard open or close,” Steve agrees.

“That’s definitely first on the list.” Tony pauses for a moment. “And maybe the only thing.”

Steve props himself up on his elbows. “Are you serious?”

“I was heading back from the bathroom and caught them in their sister’s room. There was Advil on her bedside, Peter was taking off her makeup, and they were coaxing her into pajamas.”

Steve smiles fondly as he sinks back to the mattress. “Well, that’s very sweet of them. It doesn’t deny the fact that there’s a Coca-Cola stain on our ceiling right now.”

“A stain which they’ll spend the better part of tomorrow trying to get out, don’t you think?”

Steve hugs Tony tighter to his side. “Fine. Lesser sentence for good behaviour.”

“Exactly.”

⬫⬨◊⬨⬫

Sophia wakes with a pounding headache and vision that won’t sit still. The room spins before her and her stomach flips. She squeezes her eyes shut, but that does nothing to soothe the feelings of vertigo and the equivalent of a mariachi band playing in her head, and none of this is made any easier by the sounds of someone… what, hitting the ceiling of the floor below her with a broom?  _ Shut up _ , she wants to yell, but her mouth feels full of cotton. Instead she reaches for her phone, fumbling for a moment before finding the power button.

Sophia flinches away from the harsh light, looking through narrowed eyes as she finds the phone icon and calls Harley. The phone rings three times before it’s picked up.

“Morning, sunshine.”

Sophia frowns. She knows she’s not in her best state of mind right now, but there’s no way she’d confuse Harley’s number with Tony’s, right?

“Dad?”

“Mhm. Harley’s otherwise occupied right now-” the sounds of a broom on the ceiling grow louder as if in protest, and Sophia curls tighter into a ball- “so I’m taking care of his phone for him. How can I help you?”

Sophia squeezes her eyes shut. “I don’t feel well.”

“Oh, no,” Tony says, his concern sounding exaggerated - but that must be Sophia’s imagination. “What, headache? Dizzy? Nauseous?” Sophia makes a sound of confirmation. “Shame. Well, maybe you did something last night that caused it. Do you remember what possibly could have happened?”

Sophia thinks back. She went out to the party, and Lucy stuck a drink in her hand, and… and nothing else.

Shit.

She’s  _ hungover. _ But Dad can’t know she’s hungover! Wait, how did she get home? Was she  _ drunk?  _ Did Dad see her? Oh, no - did  _ Pops  _ see her?

“Your brothers covered for you,” Tony says quietly, and Sophia’s brow furrows - or, it would have, if the action didn’t make her brain hurt.

“Huh?”

“You came home drunk. They snuck you in - using a very stupid method, might I add.” Tony’s voice grows louder, ensuring someone else in the room with him can hear, and Sophia pulls the phone away from her ear as she begins to hear a high-pitched ringing.

“Shh,” she mutters into the phone, and Tony laughs under his breath.

“Sorry, Soph. Look, there’s Advil and some water on your bedside. Your brothers set it there. Take that, and then come on down when you’re ready, and I’ll give you the rules of alcohol so the morning after isn’t this bad, okay?”

Sophia smiles contentedly. “Thanks, Dad.”

“Love you, sweetheart.”

The line goes dead, and Sophia tosses her phone to the mattress beside her. She prepares to push herself up from the bed when she feels a tiny hand on her arm. She looks down and is met with her sister’s wide eyes boring into hers. Sophia is too groggy and confused to feel anything else.

“Daddy told me to be quiet when I wake you up,” Morgan whispers, and Sophia smiles, patting her lightly on the shoulders.

“Thanks, Mo.”

“You look like a racoon.”

Sophia would laugh if it didn’t make her whole body ache. Instead she reached for her phone, turning it on once more and using the camera. For a moment, all she can do is stare.

“Uh, do you know what happened last night?” Sophia asks Morgan, who flops down onto the foot of Sophia’s bed. It makes her mattress shake, and Sophia holds her breath as a new wave of nausea overtakes her.

“Dad and Daddy were mad at Harley and Peter. They were screaming,” Morgan answers, ignorant of her sister’s turmoil. “It woke me up.”

Sophia inspects the mess of makeup on her face, then down to her pajamas that feel  _ way  _ too thick-

She’s still wearing her dress, isn’t she?

Sophia drops back onto her bed.

“Hey, Mo?” Sophia mutters as she buries her face back in her pillow. “Can you tell your brothers that they didn’t do a good job, and tell Daddy Steve that I’m dead and will therefore be staying in my room all day.”

Morgan asks for clarification, but Sophia’s not available to give it.

She’s already passed out, snoring into her pillow.


End file.
